Too Good Too Bad
by miss risky
Summary: Good morning, Mr. Greywards. He raised the hood helpfully. I'll be your executioner for today. The prisoner arched an eyebrow. Oh don't worry Mr. Greywards, the executioner continued, I've hanged dozens of people. We'll soon have you out of here.


Miss Risky's Ramble : My debut will indeed be a Slayers fic as you can see. I'm tres excited to hear your thoughts! If you get confused (?), don't worry, it's not you, it's me. Hope you enjoy!

Too Good Too Bad

Chapter One: Execution.

No one whom knew him in intimacy would have supposed him born a hero, but in recent consequences involving high stakes and higher beings he was forced to do what was against his good taste. Saving the world was never fun, and in his deep subconscious folds, he felt this wasn't the first time he partook in something so dull and dissatisfying.

ClinkClink

To the village in general, and particularly on that bit of it known as the death warrant, he was Zelgadis Greywards. And he was a hero. And he was in jail.

ClinkClink

A heavy sigh.

"Last day, eh Mr. Greywards?" said the keeper as he handcuffed the condemned. The keeper of the keys always spoke with a smirk. You could _hear_ smugness in his every syllable.

"Seems so," the prisoner chirped.

It was the morning of his execution, and he was handcuffed, waiting for his escorts to finish their very personal search. He was going to make a frisking joke, but decided against it. He would rather frustrate and infuriate the keeper.

"Going to be hanged," the keeper said slowly.

"Well that is how they do it here, isn't it."

"..."

"Is something wrong?" asked the prisoner with a smile.

"WHY AREN'T YOU UPSET?"

Before the prisoner had the time to reply, it was time to go. As he was being led out the door, he turned to the keeper and flashed a victory sign. The door shut, and the keeper had the feeling that this was no ordinary prisoner they were dealing with.

And now it was a few minutes before dawn. The soon-to-be-hanged knew because of the thin, rosy line of light peeking above the horizon. Hmm, he thought looking to the sky, clouds.

"I wonder if--"

Then the rain came down.

"Isn't this predictable," he said to his escort. The guard said nothing in return.

The cobblestones were slick under his feet. It was during these times that he mostly thought about how he never feels the ground beneath his feet anymore. Lazyness? Nah. Just efficiency. A villain can't trip over a really cool cape while trying to destroy the world.

They made their way to the town square. Already a group was gathering despite the rain. Nothing like a hanging to bring a village together.

At the bottom of the steps to the execution stage was a man with a hood over his face. He was oiling the trapdoor. When they approached, the man turned to them.

"Good morning, Mr. Greywards." He raised the hood helpfully. "I'll be your executioner for today." The prisoner arched an eyebrow. "Oh don't worry Mr. Greywards," the executioner continued, "I've hanged dozens of people. We'll soon have you out of here."

"Good to know..." was the reply.

The executioner nodded and pulled down his hood.

In the back of the growing crowd, a thoroughly soaked blonde woman stopped to see what the commotion was all about. Another execution, no doubt.

"Who's being executed today?" asked Filia to no one in particular.

"Some guy named ZilGawdis Grinyards," a boy quickly replied. With a little too much enthusiasm, Filia lamented.

"Not ZilGawdis, stupid, ZELgadis GREYwards," his brother teased.

"WHA--"

The eruption of cheers interrupted Filia's shock. The executioner was walking onto the platform, his victim following behind. Filia's view became obstructed when the crowd suddenly pushed forward to get closer to the spectacle.

"Nice crowd turned out today despite the weather," said the hangman, tossing the end of the rope over the beam and busying himself with the knots. "Lot of press, too. Looks like a lot of people want to see you dead, sir."

The man known as Zelgadis Greywards smiled to himself.

The mayor stepped onto the stage with the official hanging papers.

"On this day Zelgadis Greywards has so forth been sentenced to be hanged," said the mayor. " Mr. Greywards crimes are as follow: thievery, conspiracy, and murder. Four murders, to be precise." He gave a significant pause.

Yes, well, they should have ran away like good humans, thought the charged.

"I hereby order his execution to be exacted immediately," the mayor finished and then made his way off of the stage to a burst of applause. The prisoner could only wait as the hangman finished his preparations. Then--

A small quake in the astral plane.

What was this? What was this itch he was feeling?

"What?" he said in response to a nudge.

"I asked if you have any last words, Mr. Greywards?" said the hangman. "It's tradition, you know. I wonder if you might have thought of any?"

"I'm not expecting to die," he said.

"Good one, sir." said the executioner. "We'll go with that, shall we?"

Gold. There was a flash of gold.

"No they're not my actual last words," the condemned said suddenly. "Er...let me think..."

A twitch, a stirring. There was something... something familiar in this place. His eyes searched the crowd.

"I...er...I..."

Down below, Filia was having difficulty getting through the press of people. 'Oh Mr. Zelgadis,' she thought, 'please hold on.' She must get to the front. This must be a misunderstanding. She did not know the chimera for very long, but she did know he was not one to deserve capital punishment. And so with determination, and all of her dragon strength, Filia pushed herself toward the front of the massive, and wet, crowd.

Meanwhile, the soon-to-be-dead could not shake the odd sensation tingling his spine. A surge of astral energy. This feeling, it was familiar. It was not fear, that much was certain. He was never afraid, after all. He was not created with such a handicap.

"Do you mind speeding up, Mr. Greywards?" said the hangman. "We're kinda getting soaked, eh?"

"Sorry. I want to get it right," he said, his eyes still scanning the crowd.

"Yes, but there's a limit, sir," said his executioner, annoyed at this breach of etiquette. "Otherwise you could go ah, er, um for _days_! Short and sweet, sir, if you don't mind."

"Right, right..."

In a burst of yells, the front row of his audience were pushed to the flanks, making room for a woman with golden hair waving her arms frantically.

And then, at once, it all made sense.

He couldn't help but smile.

"Mr. Greywards, please, your words!" the hangman pleaded. He looked almost to the brink of a breakdown.

"Er...oh, look, see that woman there? Waving at you?"

Filia, upon finally reaching the front, stumbled, caught herself, and looked up to the hangman. She was still a little d i z z y so at the moment she regarded two executioners. "Stop this at once!" she yelled to them, pointing dramatically. She starting tilting, and so quickly balanced herself. "He is--"

She stopped. Slowly, her eyes turned to the accused.

Eyes met eyes.

But! But!

It was not the eyes of Zelgadis Greywards looking back at her!

"Yes?" asked the hangman when the blonde had been silent for a minute.

"Y-y-y-ou?" Filia shrieked. "XELLOS!"

Yes it was him. His violet hair was long, reaching his chest, and slicked against his porcelain face from the rain. Those eyes...those eyes were still dark and stormy and feral. The grey jumpsuit fashionable with prisoners hung on his tall, lithe figure well. He was indeed the same, albeit the hair, and looked completely pleased with himself. As if he were a cat that had just eaten the canary.

"Right!" said Xellos closing his eyes, and gave her a wide smile.

"Listen lady," interrupted the hangman, "Am I to understand this isn't Zelgadis Greywards? If so, he will be released." Then he added quietly, "Shame though, all these people are anxious for a hanging."

Filia did not break her gaze from the mazoku.

Xellos was still smiling. That stupid, gods damn smile. All of the feelings...ALL of the hatred, the humiliation, the frustration came rushing at her at once.

"No," she finally said. "This is Mr. Greywards. My mistake. Proceed."

**That** made his smile vanish. And suddenly, for the first time, he looked small to her. She wasn't exactly comfortable with that.

"Come on, Mr. Greywards, you don't want me to get into trouble, do you?" said the hangman, patting him on the shoulder. "Just a few words, and then we can all get on with our lives. Present company exempted, obviously."

So this was how we are going to play, mused Xellos. He had thought he would never see the dragon ever again, but here she was, and carrying out his sentence. The Lord of Nightmares has one sick sense of humor.

"In that case," said Xellos, his eyes intensely focused on Filia's. "I commend my soul to any god that can find it."

"Nice," said the hangman, and pulled the lever.

After Thoughts:

When have you ever heard Zelgadis chirp? The first clue to the twist. Mwahahaha.

Ditto.

Xellos is always floating around. Makes you wonder if he gets enough exercise...


End file.
